Читать книгу The Kid Who Came From Space - Ross Welford - Страница 20

It was two hours after I had burst into the Stargazer with the news of Tammy’s disappearance. By now, lots of people were milling around and talking to each other or on their phones. Others, who had gone out in their cars to search the roads that head north to Scotland, or south to Hexham and every other direction, were coming back, shaking their heads sadly. Mam hugged me so hard and got me to tell her what I had seen yet again.

Shortly afterwards, a police car pulled up on the driveway and two officers got out. I had already heard that the little police station in Bellingham, twenty miles away, had closed down for the Christmas break.

I heard Dad talking to them in the entrance as they came through to the bar.

‘Yes, sir – we’ve driven up from Hexham.’

‘Only two of you?’ said Dad. He was still in his toy soldier outfit, but nobody mentioned it.

‘It’s Christmas Eve, sir. Our staff are stretched, to be honest. But we’ve pulled in a highway patrol to help – they’ll be here soon. First thing is to establish what sort of a case we have here.’

And so began the interviews that were to continue, on and off, for days. People were coming in and out, and Dad tried to manage it all. There were calls of ‘Any news?’, and the sound of people’s mobile phones pinging and ringing.

Iggy and his mum had left with wishes of good luck, after Cora had sat with her eyes closed for a minute and meditated for ‘positive energy’ – which was nice of her, I guess, if a bit embarrassing.

I sat with Gran in the pub lounge with the fire going as she took shaky sips of tea. I told the police officers everything and they wrote it down in their notebooks.

Then I got to the bit about the noise by the water …

‘Wait, Ethan,’ said the woman officer who I had decided was quite nice. ‘Tell me again: why did you go down to the water?’

I shrugged. ‘I just followed the path. I just … wondered. I was worried, scared for Tammy. And there was the noise.’

I tried to imitate the noise for them, but I couldn’t really duplicate it. The two officers looked at each other, then wrote in their notebooks.

‘Speedboat?’ said the male officer to his colleague.

She thought for a moment till I said, ‘It definitely wasn’t a speedboat.’

‘A drone, then?’

I suppose it could have been a drone, I said, thinking who would be flying a drone in the dark?

‘All right. Thank you, Ethan,’ said the woman officer, standing up. She addressed her colleague. ‘Kareem, we’ll take the car and secure the path and the little beach with tape. That’s a potential crime scene.’ She spoke into her radio. ‘Mike Two Lima Bravo, any sign of that Traffic Patrol unit for the potential Miss-Per in Kielder?’

‘With you in estimated ten, sergeant,’ came the radio reply.

Dad went out with another man in his car to search down by the maze. The maze is shut in the winter, but you could easily get in if you wanted to, though I had no idea why Tammy would want to do that.

Next to me on the pub’s worn sofa, Mam gripped my hand so hard that it hurt, but I said nothing.

The police sergeant said, ‘Mrs Tait, I’d like to take Ethan back to the path where Tammy’s bike was found. Do you have someone here with you?’

‘I’ll stay with her,’ said Gran. ‘More tea, Mel?’ she asked. ‘Or would you prefer something a little stronger?’

Mam nodded.

Outside, I got into the police car. A few minutes later, and we were bumping along the road that I had cycled along earlier. A group of people were standing by the overgrown entrance to the path, and the sergeant got out of the car and walked towards them.

‘Thank you, everybody. Kindly move away. We are securing this area for evidence. Please do not touch anything.’

‘Too late for that, sarge,’ said the policeman. He pointed to a man with a short white beard and a green camouflage jacket who was holding on to Tammy’s bike.

‘Please put that down, sir. We may need to collect fingerprints or other evidence.’

The man put it down roughly and it clattered on the ground.

I wanted to say, ‘Hey, be careful’, but people were already firing questions at the sergeant.

‘Any news, officer?’

‘Are there more police arriving?’

‘Will there be a search of the area?’

The sergeant tried her best to ignore them politely, and the two officers led me down the dark path, each of them holding a torch to light the way. But before we made it down to the little beach, a loud and angry snarling sound made us stop in our tracks. Then we heard the rustling undergrowth, and footsteps running towards us, and another bark.

‘Sheba! Sheba!’ came an angry voice from ahead of us, but it was too late and the dog stopped in front of us, growling.

I shrank back behind the policeman, but he was shrinking back as well.

The sergeant stood her ground and shouted into the darkness, ‘Call your dog off! This is the police!’

From the shadows a man appeared: the same man who had been holding Tammy’s bicycle, yelling, ‘Sheba! Come! Sheba! Sheba! She-baaa! Come!’

Eventually, the dog stopped growling and turned and joined the man. We all seemed to breathe out at the same time.

‘Sorry about that,’ said the man. ‘She’s a bit—’

The sergeant interrupted him. ‘Will you put that dog on a lead, please, sir?’ she said sharply. When the man hesitated, she added, ‘Now, please.’

It was a big German Shepherd, with a scar on its face and a patchy tail, and it sat while the man attached a length of string around its collar. I knew the man, sort of. Geoff something-or-other. He’s the security guard at the observatory on the top moor. He comes into the pub sometimes with another man who is his son.

‘Any news about the lass?’ said Geoff. ‘We came down here to look for ’er.’

We had emerged on to the little beach, where Geoff’s son was standing smoking a cigarette. I was still keeping a wary eye on the dog, who was pulling on her string lead.

‘No, sir,’ said the younger officer. ‘And this is now a secure area. We’ll have to ask you to leave and not to touch anything.’ He took out his notepad. ‘May I ask your names, please?’

The man who had been smoking threw his cigarette butt into the water, where it landed with a little hiss. He exhaled a plume of smoke and said, ‘Why do you need our names?’

The sergeant looked at him quizzically. ‘Just routine, sir. Is there a problem?’

Geoff shot his son a glance and said, ‘No problem at all, officer. We’re happy to help. My name is Geoffrey Mackay. G-E-O-F-F-R-E-Y. Stop it, Sheba! This is also Geoffrey Mackay, Junior …’

He carried on giving his details and I moved away a few metres along the shore towards a rickety wooden jetty that extended a few metres over the water. That’s when I saw it, lying upside down on the black shingle, half submerged by the water.

The loose label from the present I had wrapped. On it was written: Miss Sheila Osborne.